The Consequences of Pride
by Maeveth
Summary: There are two kinds of fights: those for life, and those for pride.  Both fights leave scars in their wake.  ShunUki.


It was always Shunsui who got drunk.

He was the one who'd down booze like it was water, the one who zonked out drooling on his desk when he really should have been doing his reports. He was the one who was always trying to convince Jyuushirou to get drunk, even after his best friend was all set to whonk him upside the head for being a complete lush.

That night, though, it was Ukitake who was out to get roaring drunk.

He'd made sure Kuchiki got to her quarters and got to sleep, gotten his wounds seen to, then went back to his own rooms and headed straight for the bottles he kept stowed on the rare occasions that he wanted a drink of his own, or the far less rare occasions when Shunsui stopped by and 'forgot' his own drinks. At that point he'd wanted nothing more than to kill off a bottle or two by himself and hope the alcohol erased the memory of seeing his lieutenant ripping a Hollow to bits with his bare hands, of standing by and gritting his teeth because he _knew_ this wasn't going to go well, of every muscle in his body vibrating with tension and the effort of holding himself back, all because he would not under any circumstances step in. Kaien's pride demanded that.

He wanted the next memories to go away even more. Seeing that awful thing take over and attack Kuchiki while controlling Kaien's body...having to fight his own lieutenant, someone he cared about more than almost anyone in existence, to save his subordinate and his lieutenant's soul. Kuchiki wasn't hardened enough to handle having to strike someone she cared about, and he, at least, could set his own private agony aside and strike that bastard down...

...and then his body betrayed him.

He wanted those memories to go away the most. His own weakness, his own inability, his own failure...he hadn't been able to strike the killing blow due to his own weakness. It was his fault. The thing had run for Kuchiki, who had inexplicably come back despite him telling her to get the hell out of there, but Kaien had managed to take enough control back to run himself through on her sword. He knew...he knew just seeing the look on Kuchiki's face that she'd be scarred for life by seeing that. She'd been more than half in love with her vice-captain, and he'd died in her arms. He should have been able to stop that. He should have been the one to set Kaien free...and his body had let him down. His own weakness had prevented him from doing his job.

"No, it didn't."

He didn't realize that he'd been talking to himself until he heard a voice behind him. The bottle he'd thought he hadn't touched was more than half empty, and he was clearly gone enough that he'd been thinking out loud. He didn't need to see who the speaker was, either; that reiatsu was as near and dear to him as-

"Yes it DID, Shunsui!" He whirled, startling his best friend with the violence of his reaction. "Yes it did! If I had stepped in he'd still be alive! Damn it, Shunsui, the second his zanpakutou vanished I knew he was going to die... If my blasted body hadn't decided to choose RIGHT THEN to stop working, I would have been able to stop that thing, I would have been able to set him free! I couldn't do it! I couldn't save my own lieutenant! I couldn't save my subordinate! Kuchiki's going to be scarred for LIFE because of me, because I was too damned weak to save him!"

He turned abruptly, slamming his fist into the wall and splintering the wood around it. "It's my fault. Everything is my damned fault. Everything." He coughed lightly, feeling blood bubble up again but keeping it back. "Everything, Shunsui...he's dead. He's DEAD. Do you know...do you _know_ how important he was? Do you have any idea? He's dead. He's DEAD and it's all my FAULT!" He sank to his knees, ignoring the way the splintered wood was digging its tracks into his hand, ignoring the fact that anger was finally giving way to anguish, ignoring that tears were running freely down his cheeks and he couldn't even try to stop them. He was dead. Kaien was dead. He wasn't ever going to come in to wake him up in the morning by yelling at him, wouldn't bring him tea on the days he couldn't go out with the squad, wouldn't run any more drills, wouldn't keep him on his toes or catch him off-guard...dead. Dead, and it was all his fault.

Warm arms wrapped around him a moment later, and he found himself sobbing brokenly into a pink-clad shoulder. He'd never been too proud to show his emotions, and he'd never been too stubborn to display grief, but he'd never, ever felt anything this soul-searing before. He had never had the blood of a dear one on his hands, mixed with his own...he could scrub and scrub, but those stains would never go away. He finally brought his hands up, clutching at Shunsui's haori, weeping until the racking sobs gave way to one of the worst coughing fits he'd ever had. Shunsui didn't move back; instead he held his best friend close, ignoring the way his white haori was dyed red with blood mingled with tears. He held Jyuushirou close until the coughs calmed themselves, until the sobs were replaced with silent tears that he no longer had the strength to give voice to.

Ukitake was somewhat aware when he was picked up and taken to bed, his vision still blurred with tears and the metallic taste of iron on his lips. He didn't argue when he was carefully undressed, the dirty and torn uniform tossed into the corner before he was wrapped in a soft clean sleeping robe. He just laid there, unable to stop the tears from falling. A moment later he was no longer alone. Shunsui's arms were strong and comforting when they pulled him close, though there was the voice in the back of his head, the one that said he didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve to be comforted, he didn't deserve it. He was a total failure. He was also thinking aloud again without realizing it.

"Jyuushirou, shut up. You are _not_ a total failure." The firm, almost annoyed tone got Ukitake to blink the tears away and try to focus on Shunsui's face. The other man's expression was set, not entirely grim but not quite as gentle as before. "You let him fight. You let him fight for his pride and his wife's honor. You didn't fail him...you gave him exactly what he needed. It is not your fault or anyone else's. Stop. You know as well as I do that he'd kick your ass if he heard you saying that. So stop it." Even as he shook his head Ukitake knew he was right. Kaien wouldn't thank him for that.

He buried his face in Shunsui's shoulder again, tears still dripping though he was sure he'd run out soon. He would never be able to replace Kaien...just the thought of promoting anyone to take his spot made his gut churn in agony. He quietly resolved to leave that seat open for as long as he was commanding the Thirteenth. Nobody could ever be Kaien. Nobody could replace him. He shouldn't have died...damn it. Damn it damn it damn it. Fucking hell. It was a measure of how unhinged he was that he was swearing that badly, even only in his head.

A warm hand smoothed over his hair, calming him as much as possible while his heart and mind were still in turmoil. Lips pressed against his temple, the roughness of unshaven skin tickling as words were murmured close to his ear. "Sleep. Sleep for now, Jyuu. The world will still be here tomorrow...face it when you're ready. I'll be here." For some reason the last three words were the ones that were enough to ease him, enough to loosen his chest to the point where he could, eventually, sleep. Knowing Shunsui would be there in the morning to buffer him against the harsh reality of the world was enough to let him finally slip into the sort of slumber that was more alcohol and sheer emotional and physical exhaustion than actually restful. Shunsui would be there in the morning, and Shunsui would help him get through the day, and the next day, and the day after that.

As he finally passed out, he felt the stab of guilt followed by the arms tightening around him. Shunsui would be there...but Kaien wouldn't.


End file.
